


That's Wasteland, Baby

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emma AU, Fever, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Sick Character, Sickfic, arabic speaking Jon, fluffier then i intended, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: Emma.Martin came back into view holding the baby, call it the fever making him emotional but he felt like he could cry, seeing his husband hold their daughter.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	That's Wasteland, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celosiaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/gifts).



> for the emma au in which jm adopt a daughter!!
> 
> no tw i can think of!!

Martin was no stranger to being woken up suddenly.

In his years with his mum, then the institute, both his and Jon’s nightmares, it was rare he didn’t get woken up once a night somehow.

Especially with Emma.

He felt the bed shift next to him, quick jerky movements from his husband, he opened his eyes, god was he tired, and looked over to see Jon hunched over himself, shaking on the bed.

“Jon? Love?”

His husband’s eyes darted open and stared him down, and he tried his best to ignore the flash of green that slid over his dark brown eyes like the eyelid of a snake.

“What’s wrong, habibi?”

Martin moved slowly, ignoring the ache of exhaustion deep in his bones, and opened his arms, telegraphing his movements, and as soon as he did Jon let himself fall into his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline.

It was only when this happened did Martin realize why Jon seemed so...scared.

“You’re burning up, dear, can you let me go so I can get the first aid kit and your medicine?”

Jon shook his head, mumbling something about Elias, no- something about Jonah, things about people that made Martin’s heart race in rage because they hurt his husband, hurt him.

He brushed off the anger, that’s not what he needed right now.

Just then, Emma began to cry.

He cursed silently.

“Jon, love, I need to go get Emma, you need to let me go, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Luckily, that broke through Jon’s fevered and terrified haze, and he let go of Martin reluctantly, falling back down on the bed.

Martin moved as gently and as quickly as he could out of bed, before running into Emma’s nursery, she was fine, probably just hungry, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she caught whatever Jon was sick with, assuming it wasn’t stress-induced or an allergic reaction.

Or something else.

Panic wouldn’t help, he knew it wouldn’t, so he held Emma to his chest and walked into the kitchen, getting the formula ready as fast as he could.

Emma began to cry harder, and Martin was ashamed to admit that he felt some distress at this at all, but he just shushed her gently and bounced her back and forth.

The formula was done, after testing it on his wrist he sat on the couch and began to feed his baby, and for a second he let himself feel some sort of odd comfort.

Jon was ill, yes, but he knew deep down it wasn’t like before, and that the fact that Jon was willing to be held at all, and that he was willing to let go so he could take care of Emma, was an improvement.

The first time after the institute and Jonah that Jon got sick, Martin remembers how scared he was, because what if it wasn’t just the flu, what if it was withdrawal again?

It made it worse that he didn’t have anyone at that time, and now only really had a few co-workers.

And Sasha and Tim.

The first time they spoke, after they… well after they died was an interesting one, a lot of emotions for sure, as well as pain and, well, joy, after some time.

But they weren’t as close as they once were, there was still an uncomfortable feeling around when they spoke, like the feeling of waiting for a bomb to go off.

Felt a little bit like old times then…

He brushed the feeling away, Emma was almost done with her bottle, meaning he’d be able to get to go back to Jon, who had been quiet this whole time.

He stood up when he finished feeding Emma, she liked to be rocked until she fell asleep, so he carried her on one arm while making tea and getting medicine with the other.

When she fell asleep, he placed her back in the crib, kissing her head gently, and heading back into the kitchen and grabbing the items he prepared for Jon, and going back to his husband.

“Jon?”

The man pried his eyes open, blearily looking at Martin with fever hazed eyes.

“Hi, love, can I take your temperature?”

Jon nodded, letting Marin run his hand through sweaty hair as he checked his temperature.

“39.0, you’re really not doing well, love, I have some medicine and tea, can you take them for me?”

Jon let himself be lifted up, Martin was proud of him, letting care come this easily, and the small man easily took the medicine, taking a few sips of tea, before slumping forward onto Martin.

“Alright, love, you can rest now.”

Martin shifted against the headboard of the bed, he probably wouldn’t be getting much more sleep, Jon would be up having nightmares and coughing fits for the rest of the night, and likely the day, and Emma would be up again multiple more times.

The house was so quiet and eerie, it always was at night, but he usually had the comfort of Jon being there, and he still was, physically, but Martin knew that his mind was giving him a fevered tour of his past.

He took a breath, deep just like his therapist taught him, to bring himself back to the present, to ward off the fog and chill knocking at his window.

Weird how he could be cold even with the love of his life burning at his side.

He played on his phone while petting Jon’s hair gently, he stirred a few times, nightmares creeping on him, when he shook himself awake Martin would always hush him gently back to sleep, reassuring he was safe, that they were safe.

The sun began to creep up onto the window, he’d need to call in for both Jon and himself, or post onto the google classrooms Jon kept open on his laptop that he wouldn’t be calling today.

After that was done, as if on cue, Emma began to cry again.

Martin sighed before going to her nursery, changing her and placing her on his hip while he prepared the formula for her breakfast and the tea for himself, Jon would be asleep awhile longer, meaning he’d be able to set up Emma with some toys on their floor for the time being.

After feeding Emma, and bringing her playpen into their bedroom, and giving her some quiet toys, Martin sat on the bed and drank his tea, making sure to keep his eyes on both Emma, who was now trying to eat some toys that should choke on, and Jon, who was sleeping soundly curled around him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon had to run.

He had to go he had to leave he- he didn’t know where he was.

Where was Martin?

The feeling of a vice around his neck tightened and he struggled.

He needed to run.

Hands, large hands on his arms, someone calling his name and-

He opened his eyes, Martin stood over him, eyes worried, but something in them told Jon they were safe.

They were safe.

A sharp shrill cry broke him out of the trance, and Martin looked off his face and quickly stood up.

Emma.

Martin came back into view holding the baby, call it the fever making him emotional but he felt like he could cry, seeing his husband hold their daughter.

Martin’s hair was curly and messy, it didn’t look like he’d had time to get ready for the day, and Emma in a yellow one-piece, Jon recognized it as one that one of his students gifted him when they found out they were adopting Emma

Emma was resting on Martin’s shoulder, she looked pretty tired out, he assumed it had been a long night judging by the exhaustion on Martin’s face.

“Martin”

His name was a prayer and an expression of thanks all in one, and Jon could spend an eternity just looking at him.

Martin smiled softly a him, his eyes warm and safe.

They were safe. 

“I’ll be right back, love, I’m going to put Emma in her crib.”

He left, but was back soon after, he sat next to Jon on the bed, gently cupping his cheek.

“How’re you feeling, love?”

Jon leaned forward, resting his face against Martin’s soft jumper.

“Better with you, hyati”

Martin chuckled, and wrapped his arms around Jon.

Jon thought for a moment about how far they’d both come, how ten years ago this wouldn’t have happened, how when they first met he was so scared of loving Martin.

He thought of the worms and the coma, and how they were both sure they wouldn’t make it, and how even after it smoothed out they didn’t know.

He felt Martin smiling in his hair.

“How’s the weather up there?”

He pulled back and looked at Martin’s eyes, a soft hazel color that screamed safety.

“Sunny and warm, habibi”

**Author's Note:**

> im soft this evening


End file.
